Seasons
by xoxoxo
Summary: A year in the life of Jim and Pam
1. Spring 2006

**Spring 2006**

**MAY**

It's a rainy Friday in May and she doesn't come in.

He stares at her desk and knows she's not sick. He's quite sure she doesn't really have a headache. That's not the reason she isn't here.

**_He_** is.

Every moment of last night is burned on his brain. The way she'd looked outside, panicked and understandably, incredibly freaked out. Then he remembers the way she looked here, leaning on his desk, her protests on her lips as he kissed them.

He remembers feeling her give in, just for a moment, as her hands threaded in his hair and he wanted to stop time in that instant and just hold right there forever.

He wishes he could even now as all he can remember is the way she looked right after he'd pulled away, when she'd held a hand to her mouth and run out the door.

He should do the same. Just run. He's gotten the message, loud and clear.

He should get the hell out of here already.

She's engaged. She's always been engaged. And even if 'engaged ain't married' apparently he's always been just her friend, despite the signs to the contrary.

At least it seemed that's the story she was sticking with.

He should go. Move on. Put himself out of half his misery.

He knew he would die a thousand slow deaths a day if he had to sit here and watch her live her life that way, watch her officially become Roy's wife.

He knew that he was a glutton for punishment. But he'd reached his breaking point.

He'd give her up, but not the job. He'd go to a new place, make a new start. He'd change locations, but not his "career" because, that way, at least he'd have **_something _**familiar.

He stares at his computer and the email from Jan and clicks his mouse to reply.

It's a good decision. It's the best decision.

He looks around the office and sighs. Ultimately all he really wants is for her to be happy.

If a life without him is what will make her happy…

….then that is what he'll do.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

**JUNE**

It's a beautiful Saturday in June and the sun shines brightly.

And her wedding dress still hangs in the closet.

She's sitting in the kitchen sipping coffee with her mom, relief washing over her.

_I got off easy._ Pam thinks as she stares into her half empty mug. She also knows she's kidding herself if she pretends she might not have, if pushed to, called it off herself.

It was typical of what she'd gotten used to just simply accepting. The one thing he contributed to the wedding, the one major detail. The fact that Roy booked the date for 2007 instead of 2006 was just like him.

Not paying attention at all to anything that was important to her.

She knew he'd booked his trip to escape, but even though there was no wedding, Jim left two days ago for vacation and she simply watched him go.

He wouldn't be coming back, she knew. He was leaving, truly leaving. He was moving on without her.

Despite the little voice in her head she never called out to tell him that she was wrong, that he was right.

Despite all of that, she never asked him to stay.

Because she honestly didn't know what she would do if she had. As hard as it was to watch him leave it would have been much more difficult if he'd stayed.

She had no idea how to handle this.

Even today, instead of thinking of the event that wasn't taking place, instead of being disappointed she wouldn't get married, she remembers how it felt to be in his arms, and even as she sat there, her skin prickled at the memory.

It's almost like she's there again, his hand resting on the small of her back, his breath mingling with hers. She remembers how he tasted like gin and lime and a hint of peppermint gum.

She knew she could have him, have a different type of life, if she'd just let herself. But then, there was Roy, begging and pleading her to forgive him, that he'd find some way to make it up to her.

And she felt as if she owed it to him to let him try.

So now she sits in the kitchen, with her coffee mug and her dress hanging in the closet upstairs, and thinks of staplers encased in yellow Jell-O, fabric softener and grilled cheese sandwiches, of poker chips and moonlight, and of kissing her best friend…

…and missing it.


	2. Summer 2006

_Summer 2006_

**JULY**

It's a sweltering Saturday night in July, and he's stifling a yawn.

He sits in the restaurant and tries to focus, to pay attention.

_You're the one who asked her out after all. _He reminds himself.

But as he's sitting there, watching her, listening to her stories he knows that she just won't do.

She's laughing too loudly. She's talking too fast. She's not saying anything that matters, that makes a damn bit of sense.

It's like he's sitting across from Kelly, he thinks to his horror.

She's from Stamford but wants to live in Greenwich. She thinks that she prefers the Yacht Club to the Tennis Club.

Jim knows one has to do with boats and the other with racquets but he's pretty sure both of them are unattainable on a paper salesman's salary.

He takes another sip of his beer, but doesn't want to drink too much, doesn't want a repeat of the first date he'd gone on when he'd moved here. He shivers as he remembers that drunken disaster when all he'd done was slurred the night away lamenting about what he'd left behind.

_Pam._

This girl across from him was perfectly nice. He remembers why he asked her out in the first place, because she was undeniably pretty and she'd smiled at his jokes and he knew if he didn't he'd sit home once again and sift at a box full of yogurt lids and paperclips and watch Dazed and Confused on a continuous loop.

If only he could sit there and watch it with Pam…

_Stop it. Focus. Move on, for chrissakes._

He gives the girl a smile, but it doesn't meet his eyes. As he watches her it's more and more obvious. She wasn't like Pam. She didn't laugh like Pam. Pam's laugh…he thinks, was so genuine, so…spontaneous.

It's not the girl's fault. She's probably just looking for someone too, to not be so lonely, to have a reason to get up in the morning. It's obvious that she's made an effort. Her hair is perfectly stick straight and shines like glass and it's…lovely but he's not interested in perfection.

He wants Pam.

With her unruly hair and her buttoned up blouse and her eyes that sparkle without the benefit of lustrous mascara.

He wants Pam.

With her quick wit and her easy smile and her delight in things like second drinks and solitaire and childhood games that she can't seem to let go of.

He wants Pam.

Even though, when Michael held the door open for him on his last day, she simply sat at her desk and stared at him. She didn't smile, she didn't call out to him, and she didn't make one move to stop him.

He can't shake it. He keeps trying. He takes another deep breath and closes his eyes.

_Forget her. Forget her, forget her, FORGET HER._

He repeats it to himself five times a minute, a hundred times an hour but it's hopeless.

He sees her laughing, the girl across from him and he chuckles back. Even as he does he knows this isn't going to work.

She's not Pam.

But maybe, someday, he'll find someone close.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

**AUGUST**

It's two in the morning on a Thursday and the air-conditioner isn't working.

Roy's not home yet and she's trying to work up enough emotion to be furious.

He said he would try and he did, for a while, but now he's coming up short again.

And she's tired of everything that's going wrong in her life. She just wants something that's right, for once.

_Jim._

She's tired of going to work and not having him there. Because she knows now that, ironically, he's part of what made her able to stay with Roy so long.

He gave her some sort of hope, all those times when she almost lost it.

She's tired of waking up every morning and missing him, tired of feeling like a piece of her heart is out there walking around without her.

She should have said something; she should have told him…something to let him know he wasn't crazy.

Instead she's spending her life, walking through this house, perpetually alone.

Overcome with the heat she takes a shower, turns the water on as cold as she can stand it. She towels off quickly and dresses in a loose fitting t-shirt.

She goes downstairs and gets a big glass of iced tea.

She moves to the bedroom and stands in front of a fan that makes too much noise and too little breeze. She gazes at the worthless air conditioning unit and sucks in a breath.

_Just another thing he said he'd do but didn't._

She's so tired, of **everything**.

It's not really his fault; Roy's not a bad guy. He's not. He's just not _the_ guy.

Not anymore.

He's not Jim.

She desperately tries to keep from crying.

She wonders what he is doing, where he is, who he's friends with now. She wonders if he ever thinks of her. She wonders if he could possibly think about her as often as she thinks of him.

Which, to her, seems like ten times a minute, two hundred times an hour.

She wants Jim.

With his generous laugh and his unfailing thoughtfullness. There's nothing he'd said he'd do that he didn't follow through on.

And that even included leaving her.

She wants Jim.

With his goofy grin and his elaborate schemes and the way he could just look at her and know what she's thinking.

She wants Jim.

Who could both make her world calm and turn upside down in the span of a day.

The only problem is, she doesn't have the faintest clue how to have him.

She knows where he's working; she knows how to reach him but the thought of actually doing so terrifies her.

If he's moved on, she'll simply die. The thought fills her mind that if she stays here with Roy she'll die anyway.

She stares at the ring on her hand and remembers how she felt when he first placed it there.

Hopeful, excited, incredibly giddy.

She looks at it now and sees broken promises and postponements and dreams that will never come true.

She lifts her damp hair off her shoulders and throws it up in a knot on the top of her head.

She slides her fingers over her ring, slipping it off and placing it carefully in the little dish on her dresser.

And as she does she knows, for the first time with all certainty, that no matter what happens she'll never wear it again.


	3. Autumn 2006

_Autumn 2006 _

**SEPTEMBER**

It's a crisp Wednesday in September and he thinks he might be getting closer.

It's getting slightly easier, but only just slightly.

He still misses her more than he ought to.

He hears bits and pieces of how she's doing. Phyllis sneaks in random details in her emails about his former customers.

_Pam took a message for you today from Mr. Decker. She's bought a new sweater and she looks so pretty in pink. I made sure to return the call instead of Dwight. I know that would make you crazy. _

_It looks like we might get some orders from Hershey's. Pam still fills the little dish on her desk with jellybeans but if we get the account she might have to switch to Reese's Pieces. Michael is insisting that we all take a trip to the factory together. We're all afraid he'll dress up like Willy Wonka. _

He knows she means well, and is trying, not so subtly to play cupid, but tidbits like that make it even harder to try and forget her.

He smiles at the girl coming towards him. He'd been reluctant to start anything, especially here in the office but it happened before he realized it.

Smiles turned to hellos and hellos turned to lunches and now he'd found he liked her laugh, looked forward to it, even.

It was nice, and pleasant and perfectly fine. But it still didn't hold a candle to Pam's.

He leans back in his chair and she sits on the edge of his desk. She's teasing him about making him dinner at her place tonight.

He teases back that he's afraid of getting food poisoning.

Even as he does he keeps thinking, _her place_. The thought of going there makes him nervous.

He shakes it aside. Maybe, just maybe, he'll be able to get past it this time.

He wonders if he should buy flowers or wine. He decides in his anxious state that wine is probably better.

_If I was going to Pam's I'd bring flowers. She'd like something simple, like daisies. Nothing too fancy. Or maybe even tulips. Red tulips… _

His phone rings, bringing him back. She lunges for it. They scuffle and the girl laughs loudly as she says "Keep your hands off me you pervert…" She composes herself and whispers huskily. "Hello. Jim Halpert's line…"

She pulls the phone from her ear and looks at him sheepishly. "God, Jim. I'm so sorry. They hung up."

He's about to tell her not to worry when he sees the number fading on his caller id.

His heart drops to his stomach. His face blanches.

He knows the area code all too well.

_ Scranton. The main switchboard… _

No. It **couldn't** be.

He blinks a few times, trying to focus. His hands itch to pick up the phone and dial.

He almost does, he leans over to do just that and stops just short.

_What could have made her pick up the phone? Why would she be calling now? _

He pushes down hope. Maybe he read the number wrong. This couldn't have just happened.

_It couldn't have been Pam who called. Simply, couldn't. _

But, God. What would that mean if it was?

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

**OCTOBER**

It's a Tuesday in October and she leans over the sink in the bathroom, peering in the mirror.

She's dressed as a cat again because it takes the least effort. Her nose is smudged with black face paint.

She remembers his costume last year and she has to force a smile away.

_Don't think about him, Pam. Just…don't. _

She wrings out the wet paper towel and goes back to scrubbing. It's pointless to try and not think of him she knows, especially when he's actually the reason she's rushing to take off her costume to get there on time.

It was only a month ago, when she'd been sifting through old file folders looking for a fax that she was absolutely sure should be right there on her desk.

It fell in her lap, the pamphlet Jan had given her on the graphic design training program, and stuck on the front was a post it with a note in his oversized scrawl.

_Take a chance, Pam. _

She remembers how he'd left it on her desk that night and how she'd been half furious and half thankful that he wouldn't let her give up so easy.

She reconsidered once more, but Roy had pulled her close and whispered that the weekends were the only time they had together.

And she'd been hopeful that this time he'd meant it.

Not surprisingly, even after he'd used that as an argument, nothing really changed. As usual he'd spent most weekends without her anyway.

So when the reminder fell in her lap again this time she didn't hesitate. Roy didn't have a say in how she spent her nights or weekends anymore.

The internship had sailed but it didn't stop her. Hands trembling over the keyboard she went straight online and signed up for that class she'd once dreamed of taking at the Art Institute of Philadelphia.

A simple application was all it took, and as soon as she'd gotten her confirmation she'd found that her fingers dialed as if they had a will of their own.

Shehad beenwalking on air she was so excited.

And she knew without question that he would be too.

She twirled the phone cord in her fingers. She nearly bounced in her seat.

And as she'd heard the laughter on the other end, for the second time in the span of a few months her world came shattering down.

She dropped the phone inits cradle, gasped as if someone had slapped her as she was stunned - right back to reality.

_You should have known it'd be just a matter of time. You shouldn't have taken him for granted. You should have known he was tired of waiting for you to make up your mind. _

Now, a month later, as she stared at her reflection she chastised herself. She sighed as she tossed the towel in the trash and bent down to pick up her bag.

She tried to make herself stop, but the voices nagged again even as she tried to banish them.

_Is she pretty? Is she smart? Does he look at her the way he used to look at me? _

She shook back her hair and hoped she'd also shake the thoughts away.

_NO. Pam. Enough. _

Things were fine now, better than fine. She had a new place and was starting a new kind of life. She was alone for the first time but it was almost OK.

_Stop it._ She begged the voice in her head as she swiped at her eyes. _You knew it could happen. Don't just sit here and feel sorry for yourself. You've got someplace to go and you're almost late. _

As she waited for the elevator she wished he was standing there behind her. If she closed her eyes she could almost picture him there.

So the best thing that ever walked into her life had kept on walking. So he'd moved on. So what?

Even if he'd found someone else to be with she couldn't help but feel a bit of gratitude mingled in with the raging jealousy.

No matter what had happened she was happier now.

It almost didn't matter that he was gone. Even miles away he'd been able to do what he'd always done.

He'd pushed her to be more than she could ever dream to be.


	4. Thanksgiving 2006

**_Thanksgiving 2006_**

**NOVEMBER**

It's a rainy Thursday in November and he stops short in the aisle. She's standing there perplexed, staring intently at a box of Stove Top Stuffing.

He turns around to go before she can see him and stops himself. He quickly decides he simply can't walk away.

"Hi." He says, smiling softly, the basket suddenly heavy in his hand, even though he's only got a frozen apple pie and a pint of vanilla ice cream resting in there.

Her head snaps up and she can't believe her eyes. The very last person she'd expected to see is suddenly right there in front of her.

"Hey." She blinks in surprise. She ducks her head and shuffles her feet and tries to keep from hyperventilating.

He can't help himself; his eyes roam over her head to toe. She looks beautiful, the same and different all at once. She's wearing boots and a dark brown skirt. Instead of one of the cardigans he's used to seeing her in she's wearing an oversized turtleneck sweater. It's the color of oatmeal and it makes her cheeks look flushed and her eyes bright.

His stomach does a slow full turn and his palms begin to sweat. He has to keep himself a safe distance away or he just might…

She gazes at him and blushes slightly. His hair is windblown and his coat sleeves look a little too short. He's wearing corduroys, and she doesn't think she's ever seen him wear those before. He looks a bit thinner. She wonders if he's been eating enough. She has a sudden need to feed him, fix him sandwiches until his face looks fuller.

They say nothing more for a few long moments. He can't figure out where to start, since she's the one who ended it.

Pam takes a deep breath, knowing it's really up to her. She sticks to subjects that are safe.

"Home for Thanksgiving?"

He nods, lifting the basket up so that she can see the contents. "Yeah. I – um – I forgot I was supposed to bring dessert. My Aunt Patty's gonna kill me. This is all they have left."

"I know. I'm in charge of stuffing and it's sort of slim pickings when you go last minute." She holds up the box so he can see. "Do you think anyone will care that this is for chicken not turkey?"

Jim shrugs and has to bite back a laugh, she looks so perplexed. "Pretty sure they're kind of cousins, aren't they? I don't think it's too big a deal."

"I guess." She shrugs back, tearing her gaze from his again. "How's Connecticut?"

She doesn't ask what she really wants to.

_How's what's-her-name? No. Really. I need to know. **What's** her name? I need a name to go with the image of the supermodel I have in my head. Still seeing her? Is she…_

She's roused from her thoughts when she hears him answering.

"It's um…its good. Yeah. It's…different and…it's you know – a change and it's…it's just really great." He finishes. Wow. Now that wasn't incoherent. _At all._

His stammering doesn't even seem to register. She's still staring at the floor as she replies. "Good. I'm…glad."

He needs to say it, needs to hear her answer him. It's been a half a year of wondering.

"How's Roy?"

Her head snaps up. "He's fine." She replies, her voice almost too soft for him to hear over the annoying elevator music in the background. "At least – I hear he's fine."

"What do you…" He looks at her confused.

"We're sort of…we're sort of over." She mumbles and throws the box into her near empty cart.

"Huh." It's his turn to tear his gaze from hers. "Is that right?"

He wonders why Phyllis never mentioned that fact. He thinks – no he knows - that it would have made a huge difference.

Her eyes latch onto his as she continues. "Yeah. We – I know you know that we - um…postponed the wedding at first but then it just – it never felt right again, you know? And it's not fair to him. He deserves someone who can make him happy. It wasn't me. Too much had happened. I just…couldn't do it. Not…anymore."

He's thinking of what to do, what to say, how fast he can pack up his apartment in Stamford and move back here when he hears her speak again.

"I'm taking an art class." She blurts from out of nowhere. But she needs him to know, even now, when it won't make much difference. "In Philly."

"Are you really?" He's shocked. But a good shocked. A proud shocked. The kind of shock you get when someone you know really well goes and surprises you. "Pam. That's great."

"I know." She beams. "It's a long drive, and Michael can't stop complaining, but Jan fixed my schedule so I can leave early one day a week to make it to class. She even said Corporate might help me out with the tuition if I decide to keep up with it."

"Wow, Pam…that's amazing. I'm **_so_** glad you did that." He says sincerely.

She nods and looks up at him with a smile. "I should really be thanking you Jim. I'd have never had the courage to do it without you."

He wonders what she means by that, wonders what that look in her eyes means. She looks the same and sounds the same but something's changed. Suddenly it feels so different.

He wishes he could go back in time, and decide not to leave this time. He wonders what it would be like if he said the words again, now that she's free. He wonders what her answer would be.

_I'm sorry Pam. For leaving you. For everything. Please give me one more chance._

She wishes he would tell her nothing's changed, that he still wants her after all this time.

She wonders if he can tell what she's thinking. She wonders if he can see it in her eyes or read it on her face.

_I'm sorry Jim. For sending you away. Forget her. Please give me one more chance._

But neither one of them has the courage to say anything and the moment passes.

Suddenly feeling ill at ease she shakes back her hair. It's curling loosely around her shoulders and he realizes in that moment that it's only about the second time he'd seen it like that. He wants to run his hands through it, to see if it's as soft as he imagines.

She looks at him apologetically. "I'd better go. I have to drive out to my parents and I'm already pretty late."

"Yeah. Sure." He says as he awkwardly steps out of her way.

She pushes the cart past him and turns back to take one last look. "It was **_really_** good to see you Jim."

"You too Pam." He holds her gaze and she feels it, straight to her toes.

She takes a deep breath and latches on to a fleeting moment of bravery. "Keep in touch – OK?"

He blinks in surprise at her words. "OK."

"I…moved but you um…" She smiles and it seems almost normal for a second. "…you know where to find me."

He watches her go and says softly. "That I do."


	5. Christmas 2006

_A/N: You can thank the treadmill for this little tidbit today - because I was stumped, let me tell you._

_Christmas 2006_

**DECEMBER**

It's a frigid Friday in December and she can't wait for the weekend.

It's only two weeks till Christmas and she's got a little more shopping to do. She still has her dad and her brother to buy for. Her brother is always the worst.

She keeps feeling like she's forgetting something and she finally realizes what it is. It's because for the first time in forever she doesn't have to shop for Roy.

She keeps seeing things that he'd like, that she would have bought in the past - a new sweater, a watch, the new boxed set CD of that old band she never remembered the name of. She wonders in the future who'll be buying these things for him.

She knows she's made the right decision when that particularthought isn't accompanied with a wave of jealousy.

On her way out she sees a tie in the window of a fancy men's store and before she can stop herself thinks how good it would look on Jim. How he'd look kind of distinguished but still like himself. How it was a feminine shade but he'd be able to pull it off and still look all manly.

She gets angry as she wonders if that girl is buying one just like it for him right now.

She wonders if they are shopping together, joking and laughing as they weave through the mall. She wonders if he dares her to do silly things like pose as a mannequin and scare unsuspecting customers.

She wonders if that girl would actually take him up on his dare. She likes to hope that she wouldn't.

She wonders if they're spending the holiday together, if they've become that serious that he's going to bring her home to meet his mom.

She wonders why she didn't do something six months ago, so that she'd be the one he'd be bringing home instead. Because she knows for a fact that she could have been.

_If only…_

Pam walks into the store and picks up the tie, the silk smooth under her hands. She checks the price on the back and it's insanely expensive but almost she doesn't care.

She keeps imagining him wearing it, imagines herselftugging on it, imagines herself pulling it off of him and throwing it on the floor.

And when she imagines his face she sees a look in his eye that tells her he doesn't mind in the least.

Shaking the image from her head she puts down the tie. Bundling her coat around her she makes her way to her car. She's forgotten her gloves again.

She sits there for a few long moments. Her car is old and it takes forever to warm up. She worries for a second that it won't make it through the winter.

She stops at the supermarket on her way home. She remembers that this is where she last saw him and she can't help her mouth from curving into a smile despite the what if's swirling in her head.

Tonight, instead of stuffing, she buys flour and sugar and five types of sprinkles.

She spends the night baking, spends hours rolling out the dough and cutting out angels and Christmas trees and a universe full of stars. She then carefully decorates each cookie as if it's a mini work of art.

The air smells of warm sugar, carols play in the background and she hums to herself, imaging his face when he gets her package.

She agonizes over the card, deciding in the end to keep it simple. No need to start something she's pretty sure he can't finish right now.

She doesn't want to make him uncomfortable. She doesn't want to make him feel obligated.

She just wishes she'd done it all differently.

As she tucks a few dozen tightly into a tin and carefully ties a bow she hopes that if he takes that girl to his mother's it's her cookies he brings with him for dessert.

It wouldn't be much, but at least, it'd be _something_.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

He's done all the rest of his shopping online - because the mall makes him crazy. And he's cursing the fact that he's got to be here so close to Christmas.

He's pretty much finished, just needs to find this action figure he'd promised his nephew. A call to forty toy stores has led him to this dreaded place.

But he knows that the look on the kid's face will be more than worth it.

Christmas with his family is always so crazy, but in a good way. The kids having such a good time make it all worth it.

As he waits in line he sees a little girl, her shoelaces untied and her hair a mass of curls. He watches as the woman beside her, who could only be mother with the same curly hair, leans down to tie her shoe, and places a quick kiss on her nose.

And for a minute he has to blink to focus, because for the life of him he thinks he's seeing Pam.

His mind drifts as he wonders what it would be like if he was shopping with her, if they were together, if they…

_She's not with you. She's not with anyone. She's not with Roy and she **still** isn't with you._

He warns himself, but it doesn't really register. It's not at all difficult for him to make such a leap, because he knows that he'll always wonder what it would have been like, if things had been different, if years from now they'd left their kids with a sitter and played Santa Claus.

He can see clearly how she'd argue with him that the latest video game was too violent and he'd counter with his assertion that a child only needed so many Barbies.

He'd put as many toys for himself as for the kids in the cart and though she'd complain the whole time in the end she'd slyly buy one of them to surprise him.

He could see them staying up till way after midnight Christmas Eve, trying desperately to put together something that required a degree in engineering. She'd kiss him quickly and move to the couch, telling him he was doing a great job as she'dsnuggle in and fall fast asleep.

He could see clearly how her eyes would be as bright as the kids that next morning as they saw what was waiting under the tree.

_If only…_

He remembers how the last time he'd seen her she'd asked him to keep in touch. He remembers how she'd smiled when she'd said it. He's been over it again and again in his mind but he had to figure that she meant it.

As he stands at the register he sees somethingnearby and heacts on impulse. It's probably not at all the type of thing she'd use in her art class but he doesn't think it will matter. He has absolutely no doubt she'll find some sort of use for them.

He can picture her face, lit up with laughter as she opens the box.

He comes home and sits down at his kitchen table, carefully wrapping the large pad of paper and box of 96 crayons. He guesses that's something new, because the last time he checked the most you could get was 64.

He's pretty sure she won't mind that he'd used a few to make her card.

The card is meant to be funny, with its crudely drawn picture of Dwight as an elf and Michael as Santa, both stealing toys out of the hands of small children.

It doesn't say what he wants it to say, it doesn't say anything close to the card he'd written the year before, which is still tucked away in his desk drawer upstairs.

He doesn't want to make her uncomfortable. He doesn't want to make her feel obligated.

He just wishes he'd done it all differently.

The card is simple but it says enough to let her know he's thinking of her, that he hasn't completely forgotten.

It's not all that much, but at least it's was _something_.


	6. New Years 2007

_New Years 2007_

**JANUARY**

It's the very first day in January; the year just a mere hour old in fact when his cell phone rings.

"'Lo?" He yawns, having been bored out of his mind with the evening's festivities. The party he'd been dragged to had too many nauseatingly happy couples and he'd had too little alcohol to make it at all bearable.

He hears a familiar giggle in reply. He knows there's only one person in the world it can belong to.

His eyebrows arch in surprise. "Pam?"

"Jim…ouch! Hold on…" She giggles some more and he can hear her muttering, then a clatter, then a rustle and then a sigh as she picks the phone up again.

"Sorry. I had to get out of that dress." She says blowing out a breath. "My stupid friend…" She mumbles and he can't make out the name she just said. "…made me get all dressed up tonight."

The image that sentence puts in his mind has him reeling. "Wh-what?"

It's then that he thinks he hears her singing, incredibly off key. He could swear she's singing something about partying like its 1999.

Guess she didn't get the 2007 memo.

It takes him a while to get her attention. "Pam. Pam. PAM!"

"Yes, Jim. Yes, James. JimJames." She replies, giggling again. "Why doesn't anyone call you James? Michael does – but not all the time. Maybe I'll just call you **_James_** from now on…"

He's about to say that his mom calls him James, but Pam says it so suggestively that his legs turn to jelly. He leans on the side of his car to steady himself.

"Where are you?" He asks his voice full of worry.

"OH. I'm home. I was out but I'm home now. Went to a…" She hiccups. "…party and it was lame, lame, lame. No. That's not even…it was lamer than lame. It won the Academy Award for Lameness."

"So you're saying it was lame?" He says, unable to stop a smile from creeping across his face.

"The abso - (hiccup) - lute lamest." She giggles again. "And it was **_so_** depressing. At midnight there was no one there for me to kiss."

Jim swallows audibly. The word kiss was something that meant everything from a small piece of chocolate to an act that was far more passionate. But he knew now that he'd never think of that word without remembering what it felt like to have his lips on hers.

His heart beats faster. "_Pam_."

"Kissers were everywhere. And I was there by myself, in that stupid dress and she made me do my hair and I kept looking for someone but you weren't there. Why weren't you there Jim? Sorry. I mean…_James_?"

She doesn't waste much time getting to the point. Even in her drunken state she knows she's called him for a reason. It was all she could think about all night and now that she was home she couldn't help herself from finding out the truth.

Calling Jim sounded like the most brilliant idea in the world after a bottle and a half of champagne.

"**_Would _**you have kissed me? I really would have liked that." She says as she stumbles and he hears the phone clatter again.

He's too concerned for her words to really register. "Pam?"

"Whoops. Sorry! Butterfingers!" She says cheerfully as she tries to regain her balance again. It's useless and she pauses to kick off her shoes. "What was I saying? Oh yeah. Kissing you. It was kinda quick the last time, but I remember it was really nice. It was…nice and I wouldn't mind if you did it again. Not (hiccup) at all mind. I mean…" She sinks down on the couch, yawning loudly. "You should. You totally, totally should."

He wonders how quickly he can get to Scranton. There won't be much traffic at two in the morning.

Even as he thinks it, he knows it's not a good idea. Jim takes a deep breath and says softly.

"Pam. Uh…are you sure about that? I just…I seem to remember that me…um…kissing you? It didn't go over so well the last time."

The other end of the line goes quiet and he begins to panic a bit. He thinks maybe she's hung up but then he hears a faint sound, like a sigh.

"Jim. I think that practice makes perfect." She replies her voice sounding dreamy and very far away. "Perfect…let's try for perfect…"

He wonders what that means. He wonders how much of this conversation she'll actually remember. He doesn't want to hope – but he can't help himself.

Could it be true? Does she really want him? Has she really changed her mind? He's afraid to hope, because the idea of getting his heart trampled on anymore than it already has been is paralyzing.

He's brought back to the conversation at hand as he hears her breathe his name again. He can picture her, curled on her couch - half dressed – apparently and the depiction in his head makes his pulse race and his knees weak. Actually, pretty much every part of him is reacting to that image at the moment.

She's still talking even though her words are starting to slur. "You give really, really, really awesome Christmas presents."

He knows what he's about to say is going to get lost somewhere but he still feels the need to say it.

"So do you. Pam, thank you so much. Those cookies were incredible." Jim grins as he remembers the perfectly decorated trees and the angels she'd given devil's horns. They were as beautiful and funny as they were delicious.

She smiles and he can hear it in her voice. "You're welcome. I'm glad you (hiccup) liked them. Even though - I was totally going to get you something else."

She thinks back to the store and the tie she wanted to buy him as she says wistfully. "See, I was going to buy you this tie, it was **_so_** pretty and **_so_** expensive and I thought…"

All of the sudden he notices that her voice sounds defeated. It's almost like she's off somewhere else.

He thinks he might hear her sniffling a bit. "Pam? You OK?"

She wipes a tear from her cheek. What happened? She had been in such a good mood. What was she talking about? Oh yeah, she suddenly remembers. Presents. Presents for Jim. Presents _from_ Jim.

"Speaking of awesome Christmas presents…" She says and attempts to get up again, only to fall back down. "I should make some tea."

The images of her swaying at the stove with a pot of boiling water makes him want to get in his car and drive straight to Scranton again. He could already see that it wouldn't end well.

He desperately tries to get her to reconsider. "I don't think that's a good idea, Pam. Why don't you just get some sleep? Have tea in the morning."

At his suggestion she smiles so widely he can hear it in her voice. "You're right. You are so smart and so…God, just…right. You figured it all out **_way_** before me." She sounds sad again and it seems she's fading fast. She yawns loudly. "I took way too long."

She curls up just as he imagines and snuggles in, resting her head on a cushion. "I've been stupid, James. I'm fucking (hiccup) drunk and I'm fucking stupid."

He thinks he's heard her swear only once before in his life. She manages to make it sound incredibly cute. He doesn't know quite how to take all this. It's not the first time some girl has drunk dialed him – but this time it's different. This time it's…

"Pam?" He whispers.

He can hear her falling under and knows it's best for her to just sleep it off. He tries not to chuckle as he thinks about the massive hangover she's bound to have tomorrow. He's thankful he'd stopped at three beers, because even if she forgets what she's said to him, he knows he'll remember it for the rest of his life.

And because that's what he's thinking he's beyond shocked at what she says as she drifts off to sleep.

"Tell your girlfriend I said, Happy New Year." Pam murmurs as the phone falls from her ear and clatters on the floor again.

He can barely hear the rest but he knows she's still talking.

She snuggles down further and sees his face in her mind. "Tell her she's lucky she got to kiss you tonight. She's really, really, really lucky…"


	7. Valentines Day 2007

_Valentines Day 2007_

**FEBRUARY  
**

It's a snowy Wednesday in February and she still can't believe her eyes.

She remembers just a month ago, how she waited for him to come in. How she'd been both unbelievably nervous and incredibly excited. She's still kind of fuzzy about what she'd said to him New Year's Eve but she knows that she jokingly called him James, knows that she said something about kisses…

…she knows she'd been terribly drunk

She knows not only because of the massive hangover she'd had the next day, but because he'd sent her something to tell her he'd noticed too.

It was a bottle of Excedrin and an ice pack with a note saying:

_"For the next time." _

It had made her smile and cringe all at once.

And now it's like he'd never left.

_Almost._

He remembers his first day back, how he smiled when he saw her, smiled wider when he noticed how little jewelry she wore, especially on her fingers.

On that day she had five bags of jelly beans stashed in her bottom drawer, and he'd already had fifteen emails waiting in his in box.

He gave Dwight a look, sank into his chair and turned on his monitor.

And it was like he never even left.

_Almost._

Today is a day for declarations of love, but neither of them has the nerve to speak.

At least, not out loud.

She's been doodling hearts all over her steno pad since this morning. She catches herself writing his name at least twenty times.

She wears a new pink v-neck sweater and a matching headband.

He's leaning over her desk, in the middle of telling a story and he catches her staring at him.

She's been staring at him a lot lately. More than usual.

When she smiles up at him it's all he can do to keep his hands off her.

At lunch he nibbles on his ham and cheese sandwich while she stirs her mixed berry yogurt.

She teases him about never changing – he tells her it looks like she's changed for the better.

She blushes to match her sweater and his heart beats a little faster.

Since he's been back they haven't talked about last spring.

They can't bring themselves to.

They sit in comfortable silence and it's almost just like it used to be.

But not quite.

That afternoon the phone rings and when she answers it's that voice again. Not his mother or his sister or his aunt who sometimes calls to give him a hard time. It's the voice that she finds familiar. The voice of that girl who'd picked up his line all those months ago.

She watches his face closely as he talks on the phone, sees affection in his eyes, and hears it in his voice. It stings to know that someone else is the recipient of his witty banter.

_"I told you never to call me here." He says with a smile._

_"It's good." He says softy. "No. Not too weird."_

_His voice lowers and his cheeks flush a bit. "I haven't really done anything about that yet."_

_He leans back in his chair, his eyes wander towards her and she ducks her head, hoping he hasn't caught her eavesdropping. "I'm not sure."_

_"Yeah. It's great to be home." He says finally._

Upon hearing that, she can't help herself. A small spark of hope bursts forth and latches onto her heart.

It looks like he's planning to stay for a while.

Today she'd been embarrassed when Roy sent her a bouquet of roses. Of course he'd do that, make a grand gesture when it was way too late. She took them and handed them out to everyone in the office, leaving only one standing lonely in the vase on her desk.

She smiles when she sees Jim holding his rose in his teeth while he typed.

As a gift today she'd given him three boxes of Jell-O, Strawberry and Raspberry and Cherry, all red flavors of course in honor of the holiday. She didn't know if he'd had time to replenish his supply. She'd wrapped them up and added a spiral bound book, filled with notes and complete with diagrams of some of the pranks she'd thought of for Dwight in his absence.

He told her there was no gift he'd treasured more.

"It's good to be back, Beesly." He'd said with a smile.

"It's good to have you back, Halpert." She nodded in reply.

As the clock ticks on past five-thirty she's dragging her feet, wondering if she's assumed too much. That maybe she'd misinterpreted that conversation she'd overheard and he'd really be driving up to Stamford to surprise…

…whatever her name is.

She sighs and when she can't wait another minute makes her way to the Ladies Room, rushing a bit, hoping he doesn't leave before she can get back out there.

When she walks back into the office her face falls. He's already left for the day - left without saying goodbye, and just like last year, without giving her a gift.

His chair is pushed back, his coat is gone. Hanging her head and blinking back tears she makes her way back to her own desk.

And when her eyes catch sight of something on her desk her face lights up again.

Nestled between her phone and her monitor there's a small bag of dark Hershey's kisses, her absolute favorite.

Her heart beats faster as she reads the post it note he'd attached.

_New Years Eve 2007_

_I.O.U._

_James_


	8. Winter 2007

_Winter 2007_

**MARCH**

It's an icy Tuesday in March and she sits in her car, waiting.

She's so glad she had someone to call.

When her car broke down three quarters of the way to Philadelphia she panicked. First, upset that she'd miss her class, and then distraught at the prospect of having to pay for repairs, finallyfrightened that she seemed to be stranded out in the middle of nowhere.

She's so cold she never thinks she'll be warm again. She sits in her car, because even thought frost is covering the windows from the inside now it's still much warmer than it isoutside. She sits there, thinking warm thoughts, of fireplaces, and wood burning stoves and steaming pots of tea.

And that's all it takes for her to start thinking of him.

She thinks about how it's been since he's been back. How nothing has happened. How when she got his little gift on Valentine's Day she'd thought it meant something more.

When he said he owed her kisses she was banking on them not being the chocolate kind. Had she read the whole thing all wrong?

_Was he just trying to let me down easy? Is that was this was about?_

That can't be it. Can't possibly be. Because if it is, she doesn't know if she'd be able to take that.

She's so lost in her thoughts she jumps when she hears a gentle knock on her window.

And suddenly, he's there.

"Hey." She says as she opens the door and steps out.

"Hi." He replies his breath coming out in quick puffs the air is so cold it makes it look like smoke. "Sorry it took me so long."

She can't believe he's even trying to explain himself. "No. Jim. Please. Thanks for coming."

The whole drive he kept wondering what he could actually do to help the situation. Cars weren't exactly his thing. He could change a tire and check the oil and use jumper cables like no ones business but if it was anything more serious than that he wasn't sure what he'd be able to do.

_Roy could probably rebuild the entire engine._

But she didn't call Roy did she? She called him.

Despite his less than stellar automotive skills, hearing her frantic voice on the other end of the phone he knew there is no way he wouldn't come running.

He sinks ungracefully into the driver's seat, wincing a bit because it's so close to the steering wheel. Despite her frozen condition she giggles slightly at the picture he makes as he slides the seat backwards.

He looks up at her apologetically. "I'm not really good at this kind of thing but let me take a quick look."

"O-k-kay." She nods, teeth chattering.

He stares up at her and can't believe how cold her car is. He feels guilty for taking so long to get here. "Pam. Go sit in my car. Please. I'll be right there."

She can't move her lips so she nods again and scurries to his car, sighing with relief when the heat hits her skin.

He joins her moments later, his phone in his hand. He snaps it shut as he settles in beside her.

"It's not the battery I don't think, and it isn't exactly safe to stay out there. Triple A will be here in a half hour." He gives her a scolding look. "Which – by the way – you need to join."

"I k-k-k-now. I'm s-s-s-sorry." She looks straight ahead, her hands hovering over the heating vents.

"Did you not have gloves?" Jim blinks as he watches her. "Pam. What is the matter with you?" He sighs as he takes her hands in his. He quickly rubs her frigid fingers in his own. He brings her hands to his lips, blowing on them gently before he plants a kiss squarely on each of her palms. "God. You're freezing…"

He's so concerned about warming her up what he's just done doesn't even register.

She notices. She sits there stunned and gazes at him, her eyes bright.

He drops her hands as if they've burned him. He didn't mean to do that. It's just that she was so cold and he…

He ducks his head and murmurs an apology. "Pam. I'm sorry…"

"Are you?" She whispers.

"I…" His head snaps up as he gazes at her unsure of how exactly to respond.

Her reaction is not at all what he's expecting. Actually, it's not quite true. He'd been waiting for some kind of reaction since he'd come back. But she'd kept her distance and he didn't know at all what to do about it.

She called him and talked about kisses. She'd assumed he'd been dating in Stamford. And the truth was he had, but it never really went anywhere.

Because he was too hung up on her to start anything remotely serious.

That day six months ago, when he'd thought she'd called, had ruined pretty much any chance the "new" girl had. He'd spent their date that night talking her ear off about Pam, about how much he missed her, about how he was pretty sure there'd be no one else in the world for him and how he didn't know exactly what to do about it.

Pam stares at him and has no idea what he's thinking. She sees the uncertainty in his face and she can't bear it. It's too much. It's been too long. She's been far too cautious all this time and she just can't seem to do it anymore.

_Don't do it, Pam. Don't let the moment pass you by. You've done that before and look where it's gotten you. Forget that other girl. Just tell him. Tell him now before it's too late._

She can't really see his expression. She wishes she could. Then she'd be able to figure it out. The only light iscoming fromthedashboard. It barely illuminates his face asher eyes lock with his.

"Don't be sorry. _Please, Jim_. Don't be sorry." She says softly, her voice choked with tears.

"_Pam_." He breathes, not daring to hope.

She takes a deep breath and puts her still chilly hands on either side of his face. He doesn't move and inch, just holds her gaze.

"I'm the one who's sorry. I'm so sorry. I let you think you were the only one who felt...something. I let you think you were alone. I didn't say anything to make you stay. But I was just so scared." She tries to explain. She inches closer, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Please tell me I'm not too late. Tell me you don't want her now instead." She sighs as she whispers against his lips. "Please tell me there's still time. Because…"

Tentatively, ever so slowly she touches her mouth to his. "…because I'm not afraid anymore."

He tries to reply but he can't. He's too busy being kissed. She pulls him closer, her hands threading into his hair.

"You're not too late Pam." He whispers.

Her lips part under his and she sighs again, inching closer and deepening the kiss. He responds instantly, as if he has any choice, as if he hasn't been waiting for this moment for what seems like his whole life.

His hands slide around her waist, slipping under her coat and her sweater is as soft as he'd always imagined. He pulls her closer, his lips gliding across her cheek, burying his nose in her hair.

She's not having it. She moans softly as her hands move to the back of his neck and she drags his mouth back to hers.

"Just…kiss me …" She pleads, her breath becomes ragged. "Please…"

She doesn't have to ask him twice.

He'd been stunned at first, but now he's right there with her. While she initiated the first kiss, now he takes over, leaning across the gearshift and twisting in his seat so he can feel her pressed tightly against him. It's everything he'd ever imagined, even though he can't say he'd ever imagined making out with her in the front seat of his car in the frigid cold.

She shivers again as his fingers brush her waist, just below the hem of her cardigan. Her own hands fist his shirt and then move to tug gently on his tie.

She can barely keep the smile off her face she's so happy.

He's pleased to find her skin finally warm to the touch as his fingers inch up and under her sweater.

He hears her gasp and he smiles right back at her.

"So you're not dating her?" She asks breathlessly.

He has absolutely no idea what she's even talking about."What? Who?"

"That…girl." She says, pulling him back towards her again.

"What do you think?" He asks her incredulously.

She tries to reason it out in her mind but her head is spinning to fast to focus. "I'm thinking, probably not." She agrees as she leans close and kisses him sweetly.

He chuckles as her mouth seeks his again. "I'm thinking you're probably right."

A huge grin fills her face as she leans close, her lips moving over his painstakingly slowly, like she has all night.

He's inclined to give her all the time she needs.

"So that's what this was all about." He chuckles as she rests her forehead against his for a moment, having finally come up for air. "If I knew you dragged me out here just to attack me…"

"Shut up." She commands him gently as her eyes remain closed.

"I mean, Pam. I understand if you wanted to get me alone…" His words are lost on her lips as her mouth covers his once more.

"Shut. Up." She repeats, completely exasperated, sighing when his arms close around her again.

"OK." He finally agrees.

They both decide that talking is incredibly overrated.

Despite the fact that she'd practically been frozen solid a few moments before, Pam pulls away slightly and tries to shake her coat off her shoulders. His hands move to help her and as soon as her arms are free her hands tug on his tie again, this time a little more forcefully.

"Pam." He cautions her, when she finally loosens it enough to reach the top button of his shirt.

It seems she's not in the mood to listen.

"Pam." He tries again as her nimble fingers yank his shirttails from the waist of his pants.

His own hands itch to help her get in a similar state of undress but deep in the back of his mind he knows this isn't a good idea.

Even though this quite possibly could be the most amazing night of his life.

"Pam." He struggles to keep himself under control as his hands close gently around her shoulders and he pushes her back a bit.

"What?" She breathes, her fingers clawing at his clothes once more.

He laughs - the sound so joyful it seems to bounce off the roof of the car. He gently pushes her hair back off her face. "Um…it's not that I don't want to finish what we've um…just started…"

"OK." She sighs as her eyes flutter closed and she leans towards him again.

He leans back further and smiles widely. "It's just that, any minute…"

As the words leave his mouth the yellow flashing lights of a tow truck arecast across their faces.

"Oh my God." Pam's eyes go wide as she stares up at him.

Beyond captivated with her, he leans close and kisses her softly as his hands, though shaky, quickly put himself back in some semblance of order.

"Hey." He whispers as he watches her shrug her coat back on and smooth down her hair.

She stares at him, a look of terror in her eyes. "Yeah?"

He ducks his head quickly and then makes himself meet her gaze again. "We um…we kind of need to talk about all…this…"

Her stomach flips over at the look in his eyes. "I know."

"It's going to be OK, Pam. We'll figure it out." He says with a smile, hoping to reassure her. His hand runs though her curls and comes to rest on her cheek. He stares at her intently. "Actually, it'll be better than OK."

When she's able to find her voice she nods. "OK."

"Just sit tight." He winks as he opens the door and goes out into the cold to meet the mechanic. "I'll be right back."

"Alright." She whispers back as she turns around in her seat and watches him go. She can't believe it's true.

Her world has been in chaos for so long she forgot the feeling. But it's back and she relishes in it, knowing how lucky she is to be getting a second chance. It'll be different and a bit scary and she never thought it could happen, but it seems that it has.

Everything is suddenly right again.


	9. Spring 2007

_Spring 2007 _

**APRIL**

It's a Monday in the middle of April and she's trying not to look at him.

It drives her crazy that he's impossible to stay mad at.

He keeps looking up at her and she sets her mouth in a firm line, turning her face away or ducking her head.

She's five seconds away from smiling back at him.

Every single time.

She takes a deep breath and attempts to hold onto her anger again.

This thing between them certainly didn't start easily and when they finally gave in it wasn't smooth sailing. There were so many things that were different.

Pam found she liked having her own place, but that didn't mean she didn't like having someone to come home to. She liked being able to use frilly fabrics to decorate her bedroom and loved that she could keep a vase of fresh flowers on the coffee table.

Roy had always told her he was allergic.

She took another deep breath and tried to keep hold of her annoyance. It was useless because she kept thinking of him.

That first night they'd followed the tow truck back. She kept looking at him sideways still not believing what had just happened, happened.

"_What?" He turned to her, smirking._

"_Nothing." She shrugged, smiling widely._

_He gave her a quick glance and then moved his eyes back towards the road. "What?" He said again._

_She shrugged and grinned wider. "It's just that…you're adorable."_

"_Oh please tell me you're not going to do this." He pleaded._

"_What?" She laughed back at him._

"_Beesly, as I've said we've got some stuff to work out here." He said authoritatively. "There are going to be ground rules. Rule one, despite my 'adorableness' you will not turn into a squealing teenager. Rule two; you will not post my picture in your locker or pass notes to Kelly in the hall during office hours. Rule three, you will cease and desist all signs of excessive girliness, pronto." _

"_Well Jim. Rule three might be difficult. After all - I am a girl." She said matter-of-factly._

_He was well aware of that fact. He flexed his hands on the steering wheel remembering just how like a girl she'd felt under them just minutes before._

"_Obviously." He glared at her. "Pam. Stop. You know what I mean."_

_She gave him a confused look as she settled back in her seat. "No. I really don't. I think you need to explain it to me further."_

"_Pam."_

"_Yes Jim?" She bit back a laugh._

"_You'd better watch it." He warned her, his voice sounded like her father's when his patience was wearing thin. _

"_I told you. I'm not scared of you." She said arrogantly._

_He gave her a searing look that makes her skin tingle. _

_His voice is low and dangerous as he replied. "Are you sure about that?"_

They tried to take things slowly, but it really didn't work out too well.

The first few days were filled with marathon make out sessions that reminded Jim, not so fondly, of his high school days.

He knew that it might not be easy for her to switch gears so quickly and he really didn't want to rush her.

Still he grumbled and grunted when he'd go home less than sated, cursing Mark when he'd chuckle at him and head off to his bedroom with his girlfriend.

_Bastard._

In the end it didn't happen because they'd planned it. One random Tuesday night they'd fallen asleep together watching movies, entwined on her couch. At some point during the night she stirred and simply lay there sprawled on top of him. She watched him intently until a few long moments later his eyes slowly opened.

"_Hey." He whispered and shifted, trying to sit up._

_She wouldn't let him move, she actually stretched out further, holding him in place. "Hi."_

_Still groggy he searched her face and found an answer to an unspoken question. _

_And suddenly, every inch of him was wide awake._

_Her hand reached up to rest on his cheek as she titled her lips to his, her eyes fluttering closed. _

_He needed to make sure, so he spoke softly. "Pam…"_

"_Yes." She breathed, her hands threading in his hair her mouth already searching for his. _

"_OK." He nodded as he met her._

"_OK." She murmured against his lips. She gasped when his hands slid up her sides, his thumbs running over the curves of her breasts. Her own hand slid up his thigh higher and higher until it reached his waist, her fingers paused over his belt buckle. _

_He'd have to stop this quickly if it was going to stop at all._

_Her lips moved to his neck and he could feel her smiling against his skin._

"_OK…"' She said again._

_It was all he needed to hear._

The next morning, giddy, she watched as he made her breakfast. And then thanked him by clearing the table so she could ravish him on it.

When they finally came up for air they had a long discussionand decided to keep things quiet at first – mostly because it was more fun to have a secret.

And ever since then it was simple. They spent nearly every night together and took separate cars to work in the morning. They spent their days striving for normalcy and the evenings easing the strain of being apart.

It was everything she'd dreamed of and so much more.

It was amazing, it was…just…right.

It was going to drive her insane if he kept doing things without asking her first.

She glanced at the small jar of kisses on her desk. She'd told him, not long after that first night that he wasn't done paying his debt yet.

She expected a real kiss for each chocolate one.

Halfway in they'd added a rule, however. Naked kisses didn't count. Mostly because when engaging in that particular activity neither one of them had the presence of mind to keep track.

She picked up the jar and shook it gently, frowning when she realized she only had two left.

And she suddenly knew a way to get back at him.

She waited till she felt his eyes on her. Her gaze met his and then deliberately she shook one of the remaining kisses into her palm.

She unwrapped the chocolate slowly and then popped it in her mouth. Her eyes were defiant, her smile smug.

Then she repeated the process with the last one, placing the empty jar upturned on her desk.

His hand crept to his heart and a pained expression filled his face.

She **_so_** didn't play fair.

The day dragged on. She still barely said two words to him. At five on the dot she grabbed her raincoat and slipped out the door before he even realized it.

Now, she'd been home for nearly an hour waiting for him to arrive. She couldn't imagine where he could be. He wasn't working late - she knew that for certain. Was he mad at her now and wasn't going to come over at all?

Their first fight. Well, they'd fought before but this was their first one since being together. She can't believe it's happened so soon.

Sniffling she sinks onto the couch, feeling dejected. Her head pops up when she hears keys jingling in the lock.

"Hi." He says softly as he walks in, head down.

"Hello." She replies primly, her temper flaring again.

"How long are we going to do this?" He sighs, throwing his bag next to the armchair across from the couch. He watches her intently as he shrugs off his jacket.

"Until you realize you were wrong." She snaps back at him.

"Well. _That's_ going to be a long time because I don't happen to think I was." He sighs again as he wanders to her tiny kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge. He leans against the counter as he twists off the top.

"You can't just do stuff without asking me." Her voice rises as she picks up a magazine and starts flipping through it, turning the pages with excessive force.

"OK. Agreed. But maybe I was just trying to surprise you." He countered as he walked back towards her and unfolded into the chair.

"Pretty expensive surprise." She muttered. Her voice was tight as she added. "I can take care of myself you know."

He shook his head at her. "I didn't say that you couldn't."

She can't believe he's lying, right to her face. Her cheeks flush and her eyes widen. "Oh yes. You absolutely did. That's exactly what you did when you went behind my back like that. I need to know that I can handle things on my own." Her breath is coming quicker and her hands fist in her lap.

There's resentment and a tinge of sorrow in her voice when she finishes. "I need to at least try. I didn't leave Roy just so you could swoop in and take over where he left off. I don't need you to manage me. I manage just fine by myself."

"You're not going to get an argument from me." He stares at his lap and picks at the label on his beer bottle. "I really was just trying to help you out Pam. I honestly didn't think it would be this big a deal."

"It's a lot of money. You just…you just shouldn't have." She looks at him seeming almost ashamed.

His eyes meet hers again as he leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. His voice is soft and steady as he explains himself.

"I want you to know that what I'm about to say does not matter to me at all. I want to be clear about that. But the fact is, I make more money than you and you need a reliable car. And if I can pay to fix yours up so that I don't have to worry about you driving to Philly and back twice a week then…" He shakes his head at her. "…I'm not going to apologize for it."

Her pride had taken such a hit that his explanation had never even occurred to her. All she can remember is going to pick up the car and having them tell her the bill was already paid in full.

She had to fight back tears as she whispered. "You were worried about me?"

"Absolutely." He nodded.

"And that's why you did it?"

"That's why." He nodded again. "No ulterior motive Pam, just a purely selfish one. It's only me, trying to keep from going crazy wondering if you're stuck out on some highway late at night."

Relieved she takes a deep breath. A smile creeps across her face as she stares at him. "But if that happened you could come out and rescue me."

He wants to tell her that she's contradicting herself, that she's just told him she can manage just fine on her own. But he can't because all he can think of is that night, when she'd called him frantic and ended up telling him everything he'd been waiting three years to hear.

Instead, he returns her smile and simply says. "True enough."

She slides off the couch and half crawls toward him, settling back on her heels. Her hands come to rest on his knees as she looks deeply into his eyes. "I don't want to fight with you." She says her voice soft.

"You sure?" He asked her, lifting his eyebrows. "Because here's the thing…" He reaches out and snags her waist, pulling her closer. He likes that the way she's kneeling in front of him he can see directly into her eyes. "…if we fight then we get to kiss and make up."

She pouts and he can feel it against his lips. "Except - we're out of kisses. I ate the last two this afternoon."

He keeps his mouth pressed to hers as one hand reaches down and pulls something out of his bag. "It took me three stores but I finally found them." He says, pulling back slightly as he tosses a new bag of chocolate in the sliver of space between them.

Her eyes move to the floor then back to his. She frames his face in her hands and sighs.

If every fight would end like this they think, simultaneously, they just might just argue forever.

Her eyes flutter closed and she presses herself closer.

His arms wrap around her waist and hang on tight.

"Let's start over. Double or nothing." He laughs as he kisses her senseless.


	10. Casino Night Take 2

_Spring 2007_

**MAY**

It was a mild Thursday in May, and Pam paces in front of her dresser nervously.

She can't believe it had already been a year.

A year beginning with months of regret and pining and wondering and ending with a few glorious months of everything she'd ever dreamed of.

He walks into the room and smiles widely as he sees what she is wearing.

"That, might possibly, be my favorite piece of clothing you own." He says his voice full of admiration.

She turns to him and gives him a smile, running her hands over the silk of the skirt of her dress. "Oh yeah?"

"I had never seen you look more beautiful than you did in that dress last year." He says with a sigh. "You were…are…just…wow."

"You are just trying to butter me up." She rolls her eyes.

He comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. He nuzzles her neck. "Is it working?"

"No." She says, seemingly exasperated. Her hands reach up to pin her hair off her face. "I am immune to your various charms."

His eyebrows rise at such a suggestion. "Hmmm. Is that so?"

"Yes." She turns in his arms and smiles up at him. A thought fills her mind and it leaves her face quickly.

He notices the change immediately.

"What's the matter?" He asks but he's pretty sure he already knows.

"Huh? What?" She blinks and tries to focus again.

His hand rests on her cheek and he levels his gaze at her. "Pam. What's wrong?"

She didn't know what to say, or how to explain what she was feeling, even to herself. "Nothing…I just…"

He's concerned. He hasn't seen her look so sad in a very long time. "We don't have to go if you don't want to."

"No. I do." She replies, almost too softly for him to hear. She absently picks a piece of lint off his sweater.

"Hey." His voice lowers and fills with concern. "Pam c'mon. What is it?"

She ducks her head again and doesn't meet his eyes. "It's just that tonight doesn't exactly mark the most happy of anniversaries. I mean, all I can remember is…"

He can't believe she's actually worried about this. His arm tightens around her waist as his hand reaches up to tilt her chin, nudging gently until she's looking into his eyes.

"Do you honestly think that matters to me now?" He asks her, genuinely surprised.

"It matters to me." She whispers.

He doesn't want to argue with her so he kisses her quickly. "I don't think you have anything to worry about. C'mon…" He steps away and holds his hand out, smiling when she links her fingers with his and follows him out of the bedroom.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

She's been quiet all night. He knows this, even if she's not sitting next to him. He knows other people won't even notice.

But he does. He can't keep his eyes off her.

He hears a loud laugh behind him and sees a girl with curly blond hair, the girl Roy brought tonight. Normally, that would be the first reason he'd imagine for Pam's subdued mood but he knows that's not it.

Still, it prompts him to go and stand behind her as she giggles and rakes in the chips in suddenly piled in front of her.

She really does have quite a knack for poker, he thinks as he stirs his drink.

He places a hand on her shoulder to let her know he's there. Her hand reaches up to cover his.

The gesture doesn't go unnoticed by Phyllis who catches Jim's eye and smiles softly. He nods and smiles widely as Pam squeezes his fingers lightly.

Reluctantly he steps back and watches as she continues to play poker, clapping when at long last she exhausts her supply of poker chips.

He hands her a drink but she barely acknowledges it. His hand rests gently on the small of her back. She looks up at him and then walks towards the door. Slightly stunned he follows behind moments later.

He finds her outside, leaning against the building.

"Pam?"

She doesn't reply. She walks a few feet away, towards the center of the parking lot. He follows, wondering exactly what's on her mind now.

"A year ago I was going to get married." She says as she gazes up at the moon.

He looks down at his feet, shuffles them a bit. "I know."

"You were the reason I didn't." She whispers, still not looking at him.

He doesn't answer.

"You were. I don't think I could have gone through with it - even if Roy hadn't screwed up the date."

"That's…good to hear." He replies, not really understanding where she was going with this.

"You're the reason I'm in art school. You're the reason for everything." She says as she turns to face him, hugging her arms around her waist.

She's crying and his heart hurts immediately. He can't stand to see her cry.

"Pam." He breathes stepping closer to her, his arms aching to pull her close.

She steps just out of his grasp.

"No. You need to let me say this. I can't believe I was so cruel to you." Her voice breaking a bit.

"Pam." He fights to reassure her, reaching for her again.

She's shaking her head at him. "I can't believe I let you think you were all alone. I kissed you back and still never said anything. I watched you walk awaybecause I was too scared to stop you."

He finally succeeds in closing his arms around her. He bends his head and whispers into her hair. "Shh. Stop. We've already talked about this. It's okay."

She fists his sweater in her hand and nestles in. She loves how he smells, spicy and clean. She smiles, knowing he's ruined her. Now, she can't ever do laundry without wanting to ravish him right after.

He's caught on to that fact and begins to look forward to Saturday mornings.

She takes a deep breath, her nerves calming a bit. "All night I just kept remembering how this night ended last year. The way you looked when you told me and I just…"

"C'mon. I told you it doesn't matter anymore, Pam and I meant it. You're with me now and that's all I ever wanted. Just you." His hands move to frame her face.

Her eyes are glistening with tears and he knows he's the reason. Though he'll always remember gnawing ache he'd had when he tried to live without her, he was much more concerned with enjoying the time he had with her now.

Now that she was his he wasn't going to waste a minute dwelling on what was. Now all he can see is what will be.

He had intended to kiss her to make her understand but he suddenly realizes where they are. "You want to go somewhere else and talk about this?"

She knows what he's asking and though she'd enjoyed being cautious and keeping things quiet, it didn't seem to matter much anymore. Right now, she doesn't care the least bit who sees them together.

As a matter of fact, she feels like yelling it from the rooftops at the moment.

"No." She shakes her head at him.

She steps closer and his fingers threaded though her hair. His thumbs brush her cheeks, sweeping her tears away.

"No. I want to tell you this here, now, tonight. So that next year…"

He looks horrified. "OK. Honestly? If either one of us is still working here next year…"

"You're right." She smiles, almost laughs. "But I still want to tell you..."

"OK." He bends his head so that he can look into her eyes.

"I love you." She breathes, moving closer. "I know it took me a while to figure it out, but I promise I'll make it up to you."

He can't believe his luck, or what a difference a year makes. He'd been miserable and missing her and how she was right here in his arms. It had happened more slowly that he would have liked but he couldn't be happier.

There had been a time where he thought it would never happen at all.

She couldn't believe it was true. A year ago she could have made the biggest mistake of her life. When she'd finally admitted it to herself she had thought she was way too late. Now that she knew what she could have missed she felt like latching onto him and never letting go.

She didn't think he'd mind that at all.

From the look in his eyes right now she could tell she was right.

"I love you too." He smiles widely as he gazes down at her. "And just so you know. Your debt's pretty much paid in full, Beesly. There's no need to worry." He chuckles as he leans in to kiss her.

"Well, _Halpert._ Yours certainly isn't." She replies, her voice soft and sultry. She pulls him closer as she whispers. "Pay up and kiss me."


End file.
